A Most Unexpected Love Triangle
by Sue Bridehead
Summary: During the trio’s last trip to Hogwarts, Ginny and Hermione are shocked to find that one student has become sexy, hot, and irresistible. They both fall for him, and a love triangle ensues. One-shot, almost pure fluff, and a surprise ending.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter, his friends, and their world aren't mine – and they're never going to be mine – but it's always fun to pretend. :D

Author's Notes: And now for something completely different . . . my first love triangle! By the way, Draco will be portrayed very canon-like and not at all like he is in "Unbidden Desires." (Sorry . . but please read it anyway! Please?) Rated PG for some mild swearing. Other than that, it's pure unadulterated fluff. (You're still here? Great – read it!)

Watch for the quote from a Ben Stiller movie.

And thanks to Illana and Cat for being my betas – you gals rock!

**_A Most Unexpected Love Triangle_**

"Watch where you're going, you Neanderthal!" Hermione Granger shouted at the hulking Slytherin, unsure which of Malfoy's henchmen this one was.

She could never keep straight in her mind which one was Crabbe and which was Goyle – not that it mattered a knut. One was just as bad as the other. They were really nothing more than bookends to the biggest jerk-off at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy. Without him, they weren't nearly as tough as they let on, and vice versa.

Ginny Weasley had been following close behind her. Both of them were looking for an available compartment on the already-packed train. Like Hermione, she was not terribly eager to sit with her brother, who had the emotional depth of a teaspoon, and the Boy Who Still Lived But was Perpetually Stupid.

As Hermione lugged at her knapsack of light reading for the train ride and swung it over her shoulder, her head struck the chest of the one person she was least looking forward to seeing: The new Head Boy.

"Argghhh! Fuck's sake!" he roared dramatically. "Now your disgusting, mudblood hair has soiled my robes!"

She was intent on not letting the little arsewipe ruin her last journey to Hogwarts. So instead of confronting him, Hermione decided she would be the bigger person and just ignore him. While Draco droned on and on, she merely rolled her eyes. He began dusting imaginary germs off his chest and tutted, "Probably have to burn these now; not fit for a _house-elf_ to wear . . "

Ginny, however, could not stay quiet. "Look here, you little snot," she sneered threateningly to her brother's worst enemy. He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her as if he found her very amusing. Poking a finger in his chest, she hissed, "_Don't insult the Head Girl, you smarmy maggot."_

When she poked him the third time, he latched onto her hand and squeezed her fingers together hard – _really_ hard. Ginny winced and let out a gasp, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a rather bad idea, as it only spurred him on; he tightened his grip even more.

Watching the painful expression on her face, he smiled. The sick way he twisted his mouth – she knew he was getting a perverted sort of pleasure out of hurting her, and even more out from watching her reaction.

"Why should I listen to a slag like you, Weasley?" he sneered. "I'll do as I please; _I'm_ Head Boy. Or didn't she tell you?" he asked, tossing his toward Hermione.

He snickered at Ginny's discomfort then loosened his hold slightly. Seizing the opportunity, she yanked her hand away and rubbed it gingerly to get it to stop aching.

"Yeah, come to think of it, she did. Guess it wasn't _important_ enough to remember."

"Oh, really?" he scoffed at her. Then he reached for his wand and snarled, "You'll remember **this**, you skanky little bit—"

He stopped abruptly when a large hand came up and grabbed his silver blond locks, yanking at them so hard that his head flew back and nearly hit the chin of the tall, muscular boy now standing behind him. Hermione and Ginny's mouths both dropped open a little bit.

In a deep, self-assured voice, the boy said, "Leave them alone, Malfoy. Take your goons and sod off."

Crabbe and Goyle were both too shocked to respond. Before either of them knew what to think, each girl had her wand a fraction of an inch away from the tips of their noses, their faces flushed with anger. The two thugs shuddered; Goyle cleared his throat nervously and Crabbe gulped loudly.

"B-b-but—" Draco stammered, "but I'm Head Boy! And they insulted me! I was only teaching them some . . _respect_."

But the boy behind him wouldn't let go. Instead, he tightened his grip on the Slytherin's hair. Grabbing him by the collar of his robes, he nearly pulled his Italian designer shoes off the ground then repeated firmly, "I said _'Sod off'._"

By then, Draco was whimpering and sniveling. He was dying to know who it was that had the stones to grab him like that. Appalled that this lowlife thought he could force **him**, Draco Malfoy, to apologize to these . . _girls_, he pleaded with his knuckle-dragging sidekicks.

"Well? **_Do_** something!" he commanded, doing his best to sound brave.

They did – they ran away.

Exasperated, Malfoy sighed. Then in an almost inaudible tone, he mumbled,_ "Sorry."_ The girls knew he didn't mean it, but it was probably the best they were going to get from the prat.

"That's better. Now get lost, Malfoy," the boy advised, releasing him roughly.

Never looking back, the shaken Slytherin sprinted away so quickly that he practically knocked both girls over and tripped over his own robes. He took no notice of who the boy actually was. Had he done so, he would have been absolutely mortified.

It was Neville Longbottom.

"Thank you, Neville," Ginny breathed as she sprung into his arms. She had to leap upwards to fling her arms around his neck; he held her and blushed when she planted a kiss on his cheek. Hermione took his hand and patted it warmly. She too said thanks and smiled at him, rather awed at their once-pudgy and short friend. The change was nothing less than remarkable. He was tall, built, and . . well, ridiculously good-looking.

Neville asked them, "Say, have you two found a compartment yet?" When they both shook their heads rapidly, he invited politely, "Wanna come sit with me? Gran sent some homemade pastries and a container of tea. It's way too much for just me, but she always tries to overfeed me – says I'm still a growing lad."

The girls snickered. They couldn't help but admire how he had already grown over the summer hols. "Sure," Hermione agreed, bending over to pick up her heavy knapsack of books once more.

Ginny reached for the things she'd dropped during the scrap with Malfoy and his bootlickers. As they followed behind Neville, she said forwardly, "You don't look too scrawny to me, Neville. Have you been working out this summer?"

"Yeah – loads, actually. It's our last year at Hogwarts, and I want to be ready for anything. I lift weights, I jog, kick box – you name it. I'm even learning karate."

"What color is your belt?" Hermione asked him.

"Got my purple belt last week," he answered proudly. "'Course, I've been at it for a while now."

Ginny said, "That's great, Neville! I'm really proud of you. By the way, you look fabulous." Then she added cheekily, "Getting any girls with your . . new look?"

He blushed again and gave her an awkward smile, "Well, not yet. But I'll tell you, I've never felt so confident. I look in the mirror, and – well, it's hard to believe it's really _me._" When he turned around, his deep blue eyes sparkling, he added with a grin, "And it's gotten me more respect at home. I can tell Gran's proud of me, even if she never says so."

"Neville," Hermione hedged, "you _haven't_ been using those muggle drugs – the ones they called 'steroids', have you? Because they are very bad for you."

"Wouldn't touch 'em," he swore. "One of the boys in the next town did, though – did it to get into professional boxing. It worked; he really bulked up. But he nearly died," he said, looking at them somberly.

Finding his compartment, he announced, "Here we are," then opened the door.

As it turned out, they were right next door to the compartment where Harry and Ron were sitting. Hermione didn't know who was sitting with them at this time, and she really didn't care. She just smiled gratefully at Neville, stepped in, and took a seat. Ginny did likewise.

Clapping his hands together, he asked, "Now, how about those pastries?"

"There you two are!" Ron sighed. "Me and Harry been looking for you all over the place. We saved you seats." He pointed toward the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The sorting, followed by the welcoming feast, was just about to get underway.

"No, thank you," Hermione snipped. "We're going to sit with Neville."

Harry's jaw nearly hit the table. He blinked at her. _"Neville?"_ Agog, he repeated dumbly, "Neville? You mean, you actually . . want to sit with Neville?"

As if it were patently obvious, Ginny nodded and said, "Yes, we do. Who do you think we rode with on the train?" She shrugged and made a face at Hermione that indicated what she thought of Harry's remark. Her friend giggled.

When their now much-taller, more broad-shouldered housemate strode into the room confidently, Hermione laughed inside at the looks on Harry and Ron's faces. It couldn't have been more perfect. Ron shrunk back into his seat, his expression guarded. He was clearly jealous.

Harry too seemed suddenly uncomfortable at the way Neville had just sort of . . come into his own. He certainly had grown into his looks over the summer break. He swallowed audibly; he and Ron could be facing some stiff competition for female attention this year.

Hermione and Ginny sat near where Ron and Harry were. One of them sat to Neville's right and the other to his left. During the feast, the girls took turns laughing at his jokes and encouraged him to tell them about his workout regimen that had given him such a startling new physique that was turning so many heads. Glowing in his new-found popularity, his confidence was—

"Disgusting," Ron muttered to Harry. "That's what it is. He just had a growth spurt, and now it's gone completely to his head. Thinks he's some sort of an Adonis."

Harry, never taking his eyes off the three of them, agreed. "Yeah. You're right." He turned to Ron and hissed defensively, "How dare he move in on them! Hermione's _your_ girl . . well, not technically, but—"

He stopped. Then lowering his voice, he said, "An-and Ginny . . well, everyone know she's meant for _me!_ In fact," he remarked with a wry laugh, "your mum's counting on it. That's why Gin's never really seen anyone – at least, not seriously, anyway."

He watched them with barely-veiled jealousy. He bit into his apple angrily, wishing it were Neville's head.

Yes, it seemed that a number of girls around the room had noticed the change in Neville Longbottom. Some of them had even taken to imagining what their names would sound like when they got married.

"Susan Longbottom," the Hufflepuff said as she giggled to her friend, Nancy. "No, that'll never do. Susan Bones-Longbottom is much better. _With_ a hyphen, of course." They tittered among themselves.

Her friend disagreed. "But 'Neville' and 'Nancy' . . that sounds so _natural_," she whispered, biting her lip which had curved into a dreamy smile. They broke into a fit of girlish laughter once more.

Ginny watched the longing in their eyes with secret amusement. She glanced around the Great Hall and saw that even a few of the boys were giving Neville admiring looks – giving her pause to wonder what _those_ meant. She smirked to herself as Hermione continued to gaze at Neville, hanging on his every word expectantly.

_Lap it up, Hermione_, Ginny thought, _but don't pour it on too thick._ As her eyes continued to dart about the room, she couldn't help but notice her brother and his best friend a few seats down the long table. They were glaring at Neville with envy. Careful to avoid their stares, she tuned in to join Hermione and Neville's conversation. They were discussing this year's Hogsmeade visits.

Ginny interrupted them loudly, "But Hermione, I wanted to go with Neville to the first Hogsmeade weekend; you can take the second one, or the first Gryffindor Quidditch match."

"Like hell, you will," Hermione countered, clearly offended. "**I** saw him first. And besides, he was defending _me!_"

Her girlfriend scoffed, "I don't think so! He took me to the Yule ball in my third year – so **_I_** get the first date."

"Yes, you may have _gone_ to the ball, but he asked me first," the Head Girl said indignantly. "I only turned him down because I already had a date." Looking at Neville, she said sincerely, "I would have said yes. I wanted to, Neville – honestly! But I couldn't break my date with Viktor. After all, he is an international Quidditch star. And how many 14-year-olds get to say they've gone out with a professional athlete?"

Ginny looked disgusted. "Hermione, you know that's not why you went with him. Didn't you do it to make Ron jealous?"

"Who?" She paused briefly then said, "Oh, right – your brother." Then she laughed scathingly, "I suppose that's what _he_ told you? He was never more wrong – and that's saying something, as it seems to be his favorite hobby."

Neville could do nothing but sit back and watch them go at it, tearing at each other like wolves. He somehow found it all very funny and had to stifle the giggles. Nearly all the Gryffindors within ear shot were starting to stare, as were some of students at the surrounding tables.

Finally, Ron could take no more. He slammed down his fork and rose to his feet. "Now you look here, Longbottom!" he shouted furiously. "Hermione's _my_ girl – you stay away from her, you hear me?"

Harry was right behind him. "Ron's right, Neville. You know he's had a thing for Hermione since the day they met. How _could_ you? And Ginny, she's – well . ." He faltered as he searched for the right words. "We belong together. So just . . leave her alone!"

Harry suddenly thrust his hand across the table and offered it to her. "Ginny, shall we go?" His face had a tinge of pink to it, and he was taking deep, calming breaths.

People around them were gawking unabashedly. Their mouths hung open in silent shock as they wondered how this soap opera that was unfolding before their very eyes would end.

Ginny gaped at Harry's outstretched palm and stood up slowly. Her lips were parted into a slight smile, her eyes widening with wonder. Wonder at how well their plan had worked. Nodding silently, she placed her hand in his, then let go briefly to bend down and whisper something to Neville. Then she left the room with Harry, his arm draped around her shoulder.

Ron watched them go then looked across the table at Hermione. When she finally took notice of him, she said to him unflappably, "Yes, Ronald? What is it?"

"You know I'm crazy about you," he muttered, "and I . . I'd like if you'd . . . go with me."

Mildly stunned by his lack of couth but flattered by his boldness, she acquiesced. She, too, had something more to say to Neville. Pulling close to him, she gave him a sly wink and whispered, _"Thank you, Neville. It worked brilliantly."_

End

Notes: Yeah, it was short and almost pointless, but it was 'the attack of the plot bunnies', and I just had to take a crack at it.

In the Credit Where it's Due Department: Neville's being "ridiculously good-looking" is a quote from the film Zoolander.

I would sincerely appreciate your feedback:D

(Whew – got that off my mind! So it's back to work on "Unbidden Desires.")


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